War is but a Fairy Tale
by CrystalCard
Summary: AU After another failed marriage meeting, Sakura looks for a way to regain her honor... and finds it on the battlefield. Tagging along are her best friend Felicia, who is in search of her lost love, and Isabel, a nanny with a mysterious past. War is a place for many things, and so a new tale will bloom. Based off Mulan and other fairy tales.
1. Chapter 1

**My crack at a Mulan crossover/AU, but with three main crossdressers, grey vs gray and all the Hetalia comedy shoved into the gaps.**

**A/N: Now also on Tumblr under estajay ( estajay. tumblr )**

Sakura= fem!Japan

Felicia= fem!Italy

Isabel= fem!Spain

**_Chapter 1- To bring Honor_**

Slim fingers, pale and delicate, brushed over cream silk. They moved over pink cherry blossoms and danced across paper-thin branches sewn into the cloth with perfect grace. The fingers suddenly grabbed at patterned silk, crinkling the thin fabric. It was brought up against a slim, bandage-bound chest, the skin just as pale as the fingers. Drops of clear liquid fell, staining the silk and creating unsightly blotches on the serene cherry blossom embroidery. The liquid soon stopped falling but a single thought, definite and sorrowful, lingered. _'This is my last chance.'_

White cotton socks clothed small feet, the product of many years of binding. A simple shirt and skirt, white and cotton like the socks, was then dressed over a slight torso and chest. The embroidered silk, a kimono, was then slipped on top. A cream-brown sash was tied at the waist. A mask of white make-up was painted on the face. The lips were highlighted with a deep glossy red and a gentle hue of lilac was brushed between the eye and brow.

The fingers began to reach for a wooden chest carved with flowing swirls, when a distant thumping was heard.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

The fingers stopped and the body froze.

_Thump-thump. Thump-thump._

The thumping grew louder, faster. Whatever was making the noise was approaching.

_Thump-thump-thump-….WHOSH~_

"_Beh~_ Sakura!"

The paper-thin screen door that separated the room from the rest of the world was flung wide open. Something, or rather someone, leaped onto the body and into a death-grip embrace. A pair of sun-tanned arms snaked around the chest, constricting it and preventing the flow of oxygen to reach the lungs.

As she was well versed in reading atmosphere, Sakura couldn't detect any ill intent from her 'attacker', only happiness and over-excitement. But despite the lack of any malice, she believed this was the end for her. A simple, well-meaning hug would be the cause of death that will be inscribed on her tombstone…

"Felicia, let go of Sakura before you suffocate her." A sunny yet firm voice said. "I know you want to great your friend, but there are other ways to do that without knocking the breath out of her."

"_Beh_…Okay, Big-Sis Isabel."

The arms twisted around released and retracted, allowing Sakura to take in big gulps of air to fill her lungs with. Though she knew this was slight exaggeration, the young girl had really thought that her best friend's greeting would be the end of her.

Felicia gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. "_Beh, mi dispiace, _Sakura." She said, her eyes full of sincere apology

"It is okay, Felicia-_sam…chan." _Sakura replied, quickly switching honorifics before the other girl noticed, knowing her friend's dislike for formalities.

Felicia Vargas di Venezia was a noble woman. Her grandfather, Romulus, was a well-known general in the army and her family was old and powerful. Felicia was born and raised in Northern Italia, in the port city of Venezia, moving to the capital, Roma, in her early teens. She had a love for music, art and theatre, in particular _la Commedia Dell'Arte,_ as well as many 'servant' tasks such as cooking and sweeping.

Sakura, on the other hand, was a foreigner from the distant archipelago nation of Nihon. She was an orphan under the care of a wandering marriage broker known as _Matchimēkā-sama, _or Madame Matchmaker. Throughout her travels, Sakura had been to many places, met various people and had a variety of misadventures; but she has yet to find a husband. Every man she had met with described her as either too outspoken and independent or too meek and submissive. This frustrated Madame Matchmaker to no end, as Sakura's inability impress a man had been affecting her business and reputation. She had declared that if the next man the Nihon girl met with didn't take her as his wife, Sakura would be kicked onto the streets of Roma with nothing but the clothes on her back.

Remembering her current situation, Sakura's spirits immediately dampened. She had no idea what kind of woman the man she was to meet with was looking for. Was he looking for someone loud or quiet? Prideful or humble? A woman to treat as an equal or a servant?

An arm was swung over her shoulders. Sakura looked up to see Isabel sunny face smiling down on her. _"¡No hay que preocuparse!" _The older woman said enthusiastically. "You are a beautiful girl that will soon blossom into an amazing woman. A man would have to be an idiotic fool to turn you down." Isabel's smile was infectious and both Felicia and Sakura had bright grins planted across their face.

Isabel was the caretaker and governess of Felicia and her younger siblings. Little was known about and her life before becoming the nanny to the Vargas children except she arrived by ship from España, a country across the Great Sea. She always had an air of joy surrounding her and was very rarely seen without a smile on her face, much like Felicia. Most would interpret her as an airhead with the inability to read the atmosphere, but was in fact the opposite. Isabel was thoughtful and intelligent and was seen as a mother-figure by all her charges.

Sakura was glad that her friends had come to visit her. Her spirits had lifted and she felt she could do just about anything.

Sakura once again reached for the wooden chest. The happy mood in the room began to sober. She opened the wooden chest and began ruffle through its contents. Inside the chest were all her material possessions: spare clothing, extra make-up and silk, a worn needle and a reel of white thread, books written in her native language with flowers pressed between the pages and, at the very bottom of the chest, was a long package wrapped in maroon silk with a golden trim. Everyone held their breath as Sakura unwrapped the package.

Nestled in the thin fabric were two items: the first was a small bone white comb with opals embedded into it, a deep red cherry blossom was fixated to the top of it. The second was a _katana_ with a black hilt and sealed in a sheath just as black with veins of red and gold running across it. The pair symbolised elegance and strength, beauty and battle, feminine and masculine.

They were given to her by a strange man she had met as a child. Sakura was wondering the streets of Hangug-ui, a country to the Far East, while Madame Matchmaker was in the middle of an appointment. A queer man who had been passing by had given it to her and said, "This rightfully belongs to you… and it was made right here da-ze!" before rushing off into the crowd. At the time, the items were covered in dirt and rust while the silk was stained and blotched. Had they been in the condition they were in now, they would have been confiscated by the marriage broker instead of being disregarded as trash.

Over the years, Sakura had polished and cleaned the items to their present state. Every meeting, she would sneak in one of the items in her sleaves. When she held the comb in her wide sleeves, the man would say she was too delicate and fragile. When it was the blade, he would call her too rough and outspoken. The girl had concluded at one point that they were cursed and decided not to bring either of them to a meeting. The man had claimed she wasn't the kind of woman he wanted as a wife the moment she walked into the room.

Sakura held her two treasures in her hands, the comb in the right and sword in the left, contemplating which one to take to her final meeting.

Isabel inspected the two items with a careful eye, thinking of which one would bring the younger girl success. "Why not bring both?" the nanny finally suggested.

"Beh, and don't hide them in your sleeves, where them with pride and showcase them to the world!" Felicia added, waving her arms madly.

Her friends' bold remarks flustered Sakura. She wondered how women of the west could be so out-going and assertive. "B-but what will _Matchimēkā-sama _say." She stuttered. "She will think that I had stolen them."

"_Beh, _then we'll say their gifts from us!" Felicia declared, grabbing the blade and shoving it in Sakura's sash on the left side.

"¡_No hay que preocuparse."_ Isabel said gently, taking the comb from Sakura's hand and placing it in the right side of her hair. "No man would be foolish enough to reject you…" Isabel then pushed something soft and round into her hand. "…but here's a little something just for luck."

Sakura looked down and saw a bright red tomato, ripe and cheerful, just like Isabel.

Felicia gave Sakura another hug, though this one was not as tight. "_Buona fortuna, mia amica."_

"_Arigatō, _Felicia-_chan, _Isabel-_san." _Sakura said with a bow as she left her room for the meeting.

As she walked, Sakura began reciting a poem she knew as well as her own name:

"_Calm, obedient, and works fast pace,_

_Delicate, polite and dutiful,_

_Quiet, punctual, and knows her place,_

_Demure, poised and graceful,_

_Gentle and refined,_

_These are the elements of a perfect bride,_

_And bring honour to us all."_

{~~~}

Notes:

_mi dispiace- _I'm sorry (Italian)

_Buona fortuna, mia amica- _Good luck/fortune, my friend (Italian)

_Beh_- shortened for of _bene_ (good); an interjection that means 'well'. (I'm not making this up, I asked my Italian teacher and it popped up in a listening task) (Italian)

_¡No hay que preocuparse!-_ Not to worry! (Spanish)

_Arigatō- _thank you (Japanese)

Italia- Italy in Italian

Venezia- Venice in Italian

Roma- Rome in Italian

España- Spain in Spanish

Nihon- Japan in Japanese

Hangug-ui- South Korea in Korean

La Commedia Dell'Arte- a type of Italian comedy that was generally performed on streets and temporary stages in the 16th century. It's most notable feature is the masks worn by the performers.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2-Rain, Reflections and Hormones**_

Rain.

Droplets of water that fell from the sky in a never-ending cycle. It watered crops, filled dams and washed away the past. Rain was also known as the tears of the heavens.

'_How fitting that name is.' _Sakura thought bitterly as she stared into the grey storm clouds. The sky could no longer hold in its tears and neither could she. It was impossible to tell whose tears stained the ground below.

She had failed again.

Sakura had done everything correctly, perfectly. From the moment the man walked into the room to the point when those dreaded words left his lips:

"_Sorry, but you're not my type."_

Even though Sakura was looked like a masterpiece, recited the elements of a perfect bride and wife without a single mistake and acted faultlessly, she had still been rejected. The day had ended in failure. Madame Matchmaker was fed up with her failures and disgraces, today was the last straw. While the Madame had acted civil after the client's rejection, the moment he exited the room, her rage had been released onto Sakura. The girl knew there was nothing she could do to calm down her enraged mistress and took on whatever abuse, both verbal and physical, that was thrown her way. Sakura had deserved it for failing once again. After beating bruising her body, honor and pride, Madame Matchmaker kicked Sakura onto the streets with nothing but the clothes on her back.

Sakura aimlessly wandered Roma's deserted streets. She was a foreigner to this city, country and continent. She didn't belong here. She didn't belong anywhere.

It was a blessing that everyone had fled for cover when the sky started to cry, it would throw salt into her wounds if any one were to see her like this. The doors on either side of her were locked tight, keeping out the rain and anything else. While Sakura did know that there was one door that would always be open, the tattered remains of her pride prevented he from going through. The girl wasn't afraid of being turned away but of being let in. Felicia had a big heart and open arms and would always be ready to bring her into her home. Felicia was the sister and best friend that Sakura could ever wish for but the noble had already done so much for her. Coming to her friend in such a state would probably be too much of a burden.

Sakura soon found that she had left the city behind her and was now on the banks of il Tevere. She had often come here with Felicia and Isabel in her spare time. The river had a serene scene that Felicia loved to paint and held a calming sensation. Even when pelted down on by the rain, its waters still stayed a crystal clear blue and its banks were still dotted with blades of green and flowers of white and red.

When Sakura peered into il Tevere, she knew she was going to be met with her own reflection… so who was that girl staring back at her? Her eyes were red and puffy from the rain and thoroughly exhausted. What had been a neat mask of white paint had been smudged and mixed with reds and purples into a disgusting palate of colors with dripping black lines. Silk of pale shades had been shredded, bloodied and torn, leaving only ragged strips of cloth. Numerous ugly bruises littered her body and painted her skin with splodges of purple, black and blue.

Sakura immediately looked away. What was she if her reflection showed her someone she didn't know?

'_A useless being and a waste of space.' _Foul thoughts polluted her mind faster than she could block them out. Sakura knew she wasn't of any use to anyone and she was a liability to those she knew. She didn't even recognize her own reflection so why should she even exist?

Sakura removed her sash from her waist the used it to tie her legs together. She then drew the sword at her waist, seeing the blade for the first and last time. There was no turning back now. In stark contrast to its glossy black hilt, the blade was greyish-white shade of silver and shining like the moon above. Engraved on the blade were several characters in her native language_. _Sakura didn't ponder these characters for long or what they meant; all she was focused on was regaining her honor.

And thiswas the only way.

{~~~}

Major Lovino Vargas di Napoli disliked many things. This included loud noises, bad food, fools, Germans, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Americans, drunkards, annoyances, perverts, drunk perverted Frenchmen, drunken annoying Englishmen and drunken perverted annoying albino Germans just to name a few. Rain, wet horses, muddy roads, cold and empty stomachs were also part of the list. Unluckily for him, he had experienced all these hated things within the past twenty-four hours.

His superior ordered him to sneak into a pub where three Allies officers were seen entering and obtain any information that could be used by the Axis to gain an upper hand in the war. The place was filled to the brim fools and other annoying bastards that were all dead drunk making as much noise as humanely possible. Lovino was met with a flying bowl of sludge to the face the moment he stepped through the entrance. Anyone that called bright yellow slush with purple poka-dots food was utterly insane. After spitting out the sludge and narrowly avoided being grouped by some crazy pervert (that was probably French), Lovino was snatched away by the English officer, who was completely wasted, and sat for what felt like hours as the drunken Brit wailed every woe of his life straight into his eardrum. While the young soldier didn't mind listening to a drunkard spill his life story, the loud (and sober) American officer recognized him as an enemy and he had to flee the scene before anyone started listening to the Yankee.

The Major's day went from bad to worse after he submitted what information he had gained from the babbling English officer. His superior was a German albino narcissist that was celebrating winning a bet by poisoning his liver with as much beer as possible. Lovino had to work with the albino's freakishly tall little brother who had an emotional range of a potato to stop the albino from doing something he would later regret (though Lovino wished he could have just let the bastard embarrass himself in any way possible). Once the albino-bastard was sober, Lovino had been assigned to deliver conscription notices to Roma as punishment for a little (read as 'a lot') of swearing. It had started raining by the time he was half way to the Italian capital and it would be a waste of time and energy to turn back.

So here he was, cold and soaked to the skin on the back of a smelly horse and a completely empty stomach, swearing every other second. The only good thing about the trip was that Felicia lived in the capital and his little sister never failed to bring a smile to his face, no matter what mood he was in.

'_But knowing my luck, Feli's gone north for the Carnivale._' Lovino thought bitterly as his horse dragged its hooves though the muddy road.

A faint gleam from the surrounding woods instantly caught the miserable soldier's attention. Dismounting from his horse, Lovino followed the fading light through the trees. His hand lay on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw and enter battle at the first sign of trouble. He soon reached a clearing and there, sitting on the banks of il Tevere, was a kneeling girl. Lovino was facing her back and, though couldn't see her face, he could tell she was a beautiful. Her robe, despite being worn and tattered, showed off her natural curves perfectly without being classed as scandalous and complimented her pale skin. Long black hair tumbled down her back like a waterfall with a pale pink flower-comb pinned on the right side of her head. She was the silver lining of his terrible day and Lovino felt as if he could just stare at her forever… until he saw the sword.

A beaten up girl was kneeling on a riverbed.

She had a sword in her hand.

The sword was aimed at her neck.

_Shit._

Lovino charged at the girl and wrenched the sword from her hand. He was about to throw the blade into il Tevere when something snagged his arm. He turned to see the girl glaring at him with passive rage.

"What are you doing?" She demanded politely. Her face was covered in a hideous mask of make-up but it didn't conceal her true beauty.

The adrenaline started to fade as Lovino stared into her hazy brown eyes. _'Pretty lady. Pretty lady. Pretty lady.' _His infatuated mind chanted. He had been stuck in a war camp of the last five years with a bunch of burly muscle-heads. It was obvious that he would go crazy at the sight of a female (that wasn't one of his sisters), especially one as beautiful as the girl before him.

Snapping his mind out of its hormone-induced haze, he answered, "I should be the one asking you that question." Lovino was careful to watch his language. The girl had nearly committed suicide; one wrong word could push her off the edge. "What were you trying to do? Preform _seppuku_?"

The slight, but noticeable, anger left her and sorrow flooded onto her face. "No, it was _jigai. _It was the only way to regain my honor."

"Honor isn't worth losing your life over!" Lovino yelled.

"YES IT IS!" She yelled back. Tears were welling up in her eyes and Lovino expected her to break down then and there but she stayed strong and continued with the same momentum. "Honor is the only thing I have left! I have no home, no family and am nothing but a burden to those who care for me. I am a failure as a bride and will never find a husband. I can't even recognize my own reflection! If I don't have honor…" The girl collapsed into the young major's arms, weak from the emotional (and possibly physical) strain. "…then why should I keep on?" She whispered before fainting.

Lovino was unsure what to do. He had an unconscious, and probably homeless, girl in one arm and her proposed suicide weapon out stretched in the other while standing out in a rain that didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. But what would his parents think if he took her home? He received a scolding and a heavy punishment when he brought a stray cat home as a child, how much more would a girl stir them up? They dead set on chaining him to a snotty noble woman were firmly against any mistresses. Even if he were to say he didn't want to marry her, they would probably throw her out onto the streets. He couldn't just leave her there, she would probably try to kill herself again. She was bloody, bruised and had nowhere else to go. Bringing her with him back home was the morally right thing to do.

And she was a lady.

A pretty lady.

'_Damn hormones.' _Lovino thought as sheathed the sword in the sheath on the girl's waist and carried her back to his horse (which hopefully hadn't ran away because he forgot to tie it up). At least Felicia would be on his side… if she was town.

Notes:

_Napoli- _Naples in Italian

_il Tevere_ (The Tiber)- The river on which Roma was founded.

_Carnivale- _Refers to _il Carnivale di Venezia _(the Carnival of Venice), an annual festival held in Venezia that ends with Lent and is famed for its masks.

_Seppuku and jigai_- Japanese ritual suicide to restore/preserve honor. _Jigai _is the female version of _seppuku _since disembowelment is considered unlady-like, they basically cut their throat instead of their gut. In summary, men kill themselves by slicing open their gut (_seppuku) _while women slice their throats (_jigai). _Google it for a better explanation.


End file.
